


Firelight Firsts

by ceylontea



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 22:37:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18765679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceylontea/pseuds/ceylontea
Summary: Pike and Scanlan knew each other for years before they were ready to sleep together. But their first time was well worth the wait.Alternately: Silver-tongued Scanlan looks at the love of his life, with her well-muscled arms, and her skin glowing in the firelight, and he can barely form coherent thoughts.





	Firelight Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fic in four years, so here's a brand new account and a brand new start. Apparently, my muse decided on Pikelan smut. The heart wants what the heart wants, I guess. I definitely want to write things for other Crit Role characters later, so stay tuned. And enjoy!

Scanlan would be the first to admit that he didn’t just _enjoy_ sex; he was good at it.

He was experienced—his previous partners having been both numerous and incredibly diverse. He was attentive—never shy about asking what the other person wanted, happy to adjust his technique to fit their moods and kinks and preferences. He was charming—complimentary and swoon-worthy beforehand, and fucking dazzling during. Sex was an experience with Scanlan. It was full of passion and enthusiasm. People liked it. They liked _him_.

He’d become more than a little cocky (pun intended, of course) when it came to his abilities. But that arrogance felt justified. It wasn’t like he was making assumptions—people _told_ him he was mind-blowing.

Yet nothing could have prepared him for his first time with Pike.

He was already a new man by the time they were ready to sleep together. His year away from Vox Machina, and about a million conversations with Kaylie, had changed him forever—given him an unfamiliar, responsible hesitance, as he realised sex could have consequences he’d never bothered to consider before.

Besides, this was _Pike._

Bold, golden-hearted, gorgeous Pike, who’d always made him more consistently nervous and flustered than anyone else on earth. Now that he was putting aside his layers of bluster and flirtatious jokes, all that was left was his deep, vulnerable adoration for her. And it terrified him.

When he and Pike decided to give their relationship a try (by the gods, he was lucky), he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. They were taking things slow anyway—neither wanted to dive right into big changes after so many years of friendship. Scanlan didn’t even raise the topic of sex himself. But then, one day, Pike began to drop hints: full on suggestions while they were making out, gentle teasing when she walked past him: a hand on his ass, a kiss on his neck. It was overwhelming.

Until, one evening, they were sitting together in the dining hall at Whitestone. Keyleth hadn't arrived for this visit yet, Percy and Vex had just vanished upstairs with a barely veiled innuendo that left little to the imagination, and Grog had gone into town with Gilmore, Allura, and Kima. They were alone.

Pike was polishing her armour while they talked absently across the table. Her third glass of wine was half empty, her cheeks slightly pink, and her hair falling out of its bun. The linen shirt she wore hung a little loose over one shoulder, and the fireplace gave off a warm glow so stunning she looked angelic. One moment, Scanlan had been pulling chunks from a loaf of fluffy white bread. A second later, his mind went blank—attention captivated by the sight of her. 

“So, I think the gauntlets actually take less care than my other armour,” Pike was saying. “Look how much I have to buff this piece before it gets shiny. The low light in here doesn’t help either. Do you think it looks any better?”

Scanlan was staring at Pike’s arms, watching her biceps tense and shift as she polished. Her muscle definition was highlighted by trailing pale scars, collected over years of fighting. A tiny, endearing crease formed between her brows as she frowned.

“Scanlan?” she said. “Are you listening?”

“Huh?”

Pike looked up at him, a smile flitting over her lips when she saw the expression on his face. He realised his mouth was hanging open.

“Were you listening?” she asked again.

“Oh- uh- sorry,” he stammered. “Was… distracted.”

Okay, so it wasn’t the most eloquent sentence, but at least he’d formed words.

Pike looked smug now. She dropped her rag and the spaulder she was polishing, and leaned back in her seat, head titled to observe him. And he still couldn’t take his eyes off her arms. He already knew she could _lift_ him easily. But his mind was whirring back to a different place. A familiar fantasy. Because, shit, what if she, like, pinned him down?

Almost casually, Pike yawned, and stretched her arms above her head. And suddenly, Scanlan’s eyes were focused on her breasts.

_Is she doing that on purpose?_

“Scanlan…” Pike said slowly, his internal question answered by the glint in her eyes. “I’m thinking of heading upstairs…”

“Oh,” his gaze shot back to her face, suddenly concerned. “Are you tired?”

Pike laughed.

“No, baby.” Her smile was radiant. “I mean I want us _both_ to head upstairs.”

It took Scanlan longer than it usually would to work out what she was implying. But luckily, he wasn’t a stranger to suggestion, and his mouth formed a smirk before his brain caught up.

“I’m not about to say no to that,” he said.

Pike pushed back from the table quicker than he expected, jumping the distance from her chair to the floor (damn human-sized furniture) and dashing to his side. Before he could actually hop down to join her, Pike was scooping him into her arms, bridal style. He looped his own arms round her neck in reflex.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she said softly.

Her face was so close, Scanlan could have kissed the edge of her jaw without even moving.

“Wow,” he breathed.

And then, beaming with pride, and even more pink in the cheeks, Pike strode to the stairs. Her steps jostled Scanlan, so he could feel the firm muscle of her arms and shoulders. He couldn’t resist it then. He pressed a small, needy kiss beneath her jaw.

“ _Scanlan_.” Her voice was deeper than usual. “We’re almost there.”

And she shoved open the bedroom so hard it bounced back off the wall.

“Oops,” she grinned, as his lips parted in a kind of dizzy awe.

“You’re so strong,” he murmured.

“I know.”

And she slammed the door with her foot before pushing him against it for a kiss.

Scanlan’s thoughts scattered like light on the surface of a pond; Pike’s hands, one curved to the small of his back, the other gripping his upper thigh; her warm body pressed to his; his arms looped at the back of her neck; her lips guiding their kiss.

When she pulled away, his eyes fluttered open. And he found himself staring into the most beautiful, flushed face in the world.

At some stage, the Whitestone servants must have lit the fireplace, and golden light glowed against Pike’s skin—caught her pale hair in a luminous halo. He could see the colours in her eyes—the wide, hungry pupils. He could see the scar across one side, the delicate flick where it cut through her brow. And he could see each pore in her skin, each fine little hair, and a faint smudge of polish on her cheek. She was _perfect._

And her gaze roved over him as well, drinking in the sight. Scanlan knew he must look like a wreck already. But she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she grew prouder every second.

“Can we always enter rooms like this?” he asked.

An indelicate snort escaped her, followed by the full-voiced laugh he loved. Pike let him go again, and he managed to stand on his slightly shaky legs. She looked frustrated, pleased, and cocky all at once.

“Every time I think I’ve finally rattled you,” she said. “You come up with something flirty.”

“A fair complaint,” he allowed. “I do tend to confound all logic.”

She snorted again.

“But if it makes you feel any better,” Scanlan finished. “I agree with you. I’m amazed I’m capable of speaking Common after _that_.”

“Well, I’ve not given up yet,” Pike said.

He realised she still hadn’t stepped out of his space. His back remained a breath from the door, her hands planted against the wood, one on either side of his head. Pike leaned in. Her lips nearly brushed his.

“We’ll strip you down,” she whispered.

And with a pointed glance at his shirt, she grabbed his face for a second kiss.

Scanlan’s lips parted right away, pleading for her to take everything she wanted. She lifted him again, by the thighs, and carried him three steps to the bed, almost throwing him down. He let out a soft breath as he hit the mattress, staring upward as Pike—hands free for the first time—began to tear open the buttons on her shirt.

Her eyes still hadn’t left his face.

“Honey, take a hint,” she said.

 “Oh,” he managed. “Right.”

He began to fumble out of his shirt, but he was too slow for her. Pike tossed a handful of linen to the ground and popped the button on her pants. Loose and comfy, they pooled to the ground, and she stepped out of them, climbing right onto the bed, batting his hands away to finish the job.

She let out a pleased hum as his chest was exposed, and quickly followed with her lips pressed to every inch of warm skin. Scanlan fell back against the pillows, and she let their legs entwine, mouth never pausing, cheeks tickled by his soft brown hair. He gripped her shoulders like holding on might stop him from floating away. Pike licked slowly over one nipple, her fingers circling the other. He squirmed.

“Scanlan,” she murmured. “I know you wanted to wait a while… but… are you ready now?”

“Huh?”

Pike pushed herself up so she could look him full in the face. He could see consideration in her eyes, like she was weighing her words.

“Can we fuck tonight?”

Scanlan grinned at her directness.

“ _Yeah_ , I- Pike, I’d love to,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she said. “Undoubtedly.”

She rolled her body against his, and he knew she could feel his cock, so perfectly angled against her thigh, and very attentive. She shivered.

“Safe-sex cantrip?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

Pike trailed a hand over his stomach, the movement lit up by the briefest glow of golden light. She followed with a circle on herself, and Scanlan felt light-headed. The magic made it seem more real—so deliberate and serious.

“We’re really doing this,” he said in awe.

With another small laugh, Pike leaned to kiss him, more insistent than before. Her teeth caught his bottom lip, and he gasped, hips jerking upward.

 _Get a hold of yourself,_ he scolded himself internally. _Make it last._

And he made a valiant effort at slowing his racing mind, enjoying the drawn-out pattern of kisses, which were slowly interspersed with words—delicate compliments, lewd promises—each of which he attempted to return. Yet he could sense it when Pike also became hungry for more. And sure enough, she untangled their legs, and pushed him higher on the pillows, straddling his lap instead. Now that they were sitting, he found her glorious chest taking up half his vision, and easily adjusted his mouth to a new focus, trailing down her neck on his way. One hand settled, gripping her waist, and the other moved to cradle one breast, thumb brushing the nipple. A breathy sound escaped her.

“You look proud of yourself,” Pike whispered.

“Please,” Scanlan said, turning his eyes up to meet hers, and her eyes darkened at the word. “You’re the one being cocky tonight.”

As if in response, she pressed against his lap, his cock brushing her through a layer of fabric.

“Why are you still wearing those?” she groaned.

And she tore open the front of his pants and stuck a hand inside, taking his full length against her warm palm. A single eyebrow raised, impressed, and the pleased puff of breath that escaped her almost made him lose his mind.

“Fuck, Scanlan,” she said.

He literally whined. Unable to form a sentence.

Agonisingly slowly, Pike ran her fingers down his shaft, feeling how hard he was for her. He threw his head back, thankful for the pillows, and tried to breathe.

“ _Please,”_ he said again.

And she was smirking. She slowly increased her pace.

“Please, what?”

“Please.”

Pike leaned down to his newly exposed neck and, maintaining her strokes between their bodies, pressed her mouth against his sensitive throat. Scanlan whimpered again.

“Oh, you’re a wreck,” Pike breathed against his skin.

“You’re- I can’t help it.”

She laughed again, and he joined her, a little exasperated with himself.

“Ah,” she teased. “The eloquent bard we know and love.”

“Hey,” he protested. “You _do_ love me.”

Pike pulled back a little, smiling so brightly he thought he might melt.

“Yeah,” she agreed softly. “I do love you.”

Overwhelmed, Scanlan reached for her hand and stilled the strokes sending him too close to the edge.

“Wait,” he blurted out. “C-can I touch you?”

Pike grinned.

“Fuck yeah.”

He slid his hand between her legs. He knew exactly what he was looking for, fingers pressing between her lips and seeking his target. He teased a circle around the bud between folds of pink. Pike grabbed hold of his shoulders, letting out a soft “ _oh,”_ and rocking against his touch.

He worked her for a while, marvelling at the sweat beading on her skin, shimmering in the firelight, and the tumble of her hair, come completely loose from its bun. Her finger dug into his shoulders, and he hoped he’d bruise by morning. But most of all, he was in awe of the strength of her thighs—thick and well-muscled—holding her up. She knew exactly what she wanted, shifting angle when she needed, delivering the occasional instruction. Sometimes, he’d withdraw, and let his fingertips explore. Then he’d slip a finger or two right inside of her.

“Scanlan,” she hissed as he curled his fingers. “Get _inside_ me.”

“I am inside you,” Scanlan said, aware he was teasing, and enjoying it far too much when he saw the fire leap in her eyes.

“You ass,” Pike sighed, more pleasure than annoyance in her voice. “I mean I want your cock in me.”

Once again, her forwardness was enough to make him entirely lose hold of the conversation.

“Right,” he croaked.

And she tore his pants the rest of the way off, took him in one hand again and gave him a few quick strokes.

“Say my name again?” she asked.

“ _Pike.”_

And she lowered herself onto him, his length enveloped by perfect warmth, and he couldn’t remember anything _expect_ her name.

“ _Pike,_ ” he said again.

She hummed in contentment, settling happily against his thighs for long enough to look into his desperate eyes, brush back some of his hair. And then she began to ride him. Her control of her own body was flawless. She chose her position—her rhythm—claimed her pleasure.

Scanlan bucked upward to meet her, and they moved in ardent harmony, their pattern as instinctual as the dance of their everyday lives. They poured in the ease and comfort, the thrills and unbearable longing of every conversation they’d ever had. They delighted in the balance between their souls: the years of pain and laughter and love. It was perfect, and simple, and intimate even as it overwhelmed Scanlan completely.

His world was consumed by the endless stretch of Pike’s beautiful skin, and her familiar, comforting scent. She enveloped him entirely.

“Scanlan,” Pike murmured. “You look so good, darling.”

He managed another whimper.

“You ready to come for me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he gasped. “Yes, yes, yes.”

She laughed softly again. Tightened her thighs around him and changed pace. And he shut his eyes and lost himself to it; pleasure hitting in a crest of unbelievable joy.

He cried her name with all the adoration he’d been holding for years. Like the very word was a blessing to Sarenrae—to Ioun—to every god he’d heard of and all those far beyond his senses. Like the divine should thank Pike for existing.

And, really, they should.

She kept up their pace to the end of his orgasm and then slid herself away, dropping to the pillows at his side. He had time to notice a slight tremble in her thighs, and then Pike tugged him toward her, not willing to break contact. Scanlan needed no further encouragement. He eased two fingers back inside of her, while the other hand found a whole range of ways to tease her closer to the edge.

“Yes,” Pike gasped, as he hit her just right. “There.”

Scanlan did as he was told, and Pike pushed harder against his hand, her eyes closing, her beautiful, kiss-red lips slightly parted. He kissed the nearest stretch of skin, murmuring sweet words against her body.

“That’s it, Pike. Just a little closer, darling. You’ve been so perfect tonight. Fuck, you deserve everything. The world, the universe—all yours. Me—all yours.”

And then her hand was on top of his, nudging him even deeper.

“Say it again.”

He smiled.

“I’m yours, Pike.”

And she let out a moan that would be imprinted on his mind forever. He could feel her clench around his fingers, and he stroked her through the flood of pleasure that overtook her body.

“ _Fuckfuckfuck,”_ she gasped, her words a tumble of unfiltered ecstasy.

 _I did that,_ thought Scanlan proudly.

And Pike’s lashes fluttered open. Her eyes met his as she rode the last wave of feeling, her hips slowing, her thighs relaxing.

“I _love_ you,” Scanlan said hopelessly. “I’m going to love you forever.”

“I know,” Pike teased, rolling on top of him to pin him with a languid, happy kiss. “And I love you too.”

And so, they continued—until the fire had dimmed to scarlet coals, and rays of moonlight had shifted far across the room—until they fell asleep entangled.


End file.
